


All About Us

by ZoudiazZoe



Series: James & Keith Week 2018 [4]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Day 4. Fighter, James and Keith Week 2018, Karma is a Bitch, M/M, Pidge | Katie Holt is Savage, keith is in denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-14
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-07-12 10:03:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15992927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZoudiazZoe/pseuds/ZoudiazZoe
Summary: James and Keith matched when it came to brains,—and maybe the fighter pilot was stronger than him—but Keith has always been the most agile of them all, and he knew how to use that for his advantage.





	All About Us

The MFE’s pilots performed their best during the fight. No one had expected a second Galra cruiser so soon. Especially, not when Voltron wasn’t able to fight back. Thankfully, James and his team were able to handle it so far with the help of Atlas.

What he wasn’t expecting was the fatal flaw of the MFE Fighter Jets. The energy was not as lasting as the Lions’ or the Castle.

Kinkade and Leifsdottir have been down for four dobashes now. James and the rest had no chance to keep on fighting. The Paladins are merely watching from the command room. There was an uneasiness in Keith’s heart. They should regroup and withdraw from battle. Atlas could handle the dire situation.

 

Keith was proud of James. The cadet was an exceptional fighter and pilot. But it’s not enough, the brunet was not calling for retracting. He should have called already, taking advantage of the fact they were on Earth. Keith feared of what might happen if he had to fight in Space.   
The fighter jet of James fell, communications were broken. The Black Paladin sucked in a breath. He needed to get to his lion asap.

Before his knees moved completely, the Galra ship that had been pursuing James exploded. And the Leader of the MFE went up again. Keith was mad, that had been so _reckless_.

The cadet had allowed shipping to get closer; he had played bait in order to attack. Clever move, yet reckless. More so having in mind how he was currently struggling to keep on the jet—energy must’ve run out— still.

 

Keith impulsively decided that had been enough. He left the room against the protest of the others; his mom wasn’t stopping him. Besides, he was feeling _fine_.

He jogged all the way to where the Lions were. Black resisted at first to let him in, but he wasn’t as obstinate as Red, so it was easy to convince the metallic beast to allow him in and go join the fight.

 

The voice inside of the Lion solemnly spoke to him. It wasn’t mockery, and it wasn’t a scold either, however, it unsettled Keith. _That’s what you made us feel._

The Black Paladin chuckled bitterly. Karma, sure as fuck, was a bitch.

 

______

 

Keith found James while he was roaming what remained of the Garrison’s training grounds. It had been a coincidence. He was nothing but seeking dummies to punch until his head cleared—he had even brought a sharpie with him, in case he was feeling salty and wanted to name one after the Leader of the MFE.

 

“Aren’t you supposed to be resting?” Truth to be told, it was James the one who found him.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in the Hospital?” Keith shot back. Stretching his shoulders, they were sore for the lack of activity. Hospitals were genuinely a nuisance. “Not entirely human, remember?”

 

James chuckled at that. Keith didn’t identify what was so funny about it, but the remains of the ice between them broke. Keith’s eyes opened all the way, his expression never betraying him, though. Maybe the dummies were not going to be necessary after all.

“Fancy some sparing? Or you have duties to attend to?” James raised a brow. Shock shone in his eyes for a few, then his expression changed to a smug one.

“Why not?” James made his way to the facility. “We’re both in a disadvantage here, anyways.” Their wounds were minimal by now, although it was kind of entertaining to follow the game.  
Both males entered the facility. It wasn’t abandoned per se, but Keith could clearly recognize the lack of use it had received lately.

 

The leader of Voltron took off the jacket he was wearing and hurled it aside.  
Keith placed his mom’s blade next to his jacket. He locked eyes with James, both were ready. Keith adopted a fighting position.

Unexpectedly, James was the one delivering the first punch. That surprised Keith big time, for James' tactic, was to always taunt first, at least he worked that way with him. The leader of Voltron barely had time to defend himself from that.

The moment he tried regaining momentum, he was tackled brusquely, his body flew until it hit against one of the walls; the next thing he felt the urge to grasp for air. James’ fort has never been the hand-to-hand fight.

Keith should know about that. His rival was astute and strong, but violence was not one of his traits. That was all Keith’s. James approached slowly and offered him a hand, which he naively took.

His blue-gray eyes were shining in a way he couldn’t decipher at all. He felt like slapping them. Good thing he always acts before thinking, because the back of his hand was already on his attractive face. An exact flick with his knuckles in his cheekbone did the trick. It wasn’t really his intention to hit him like that, but in his defense he deserved it! That tackled had hurt. The Black Paladin stretched, making his spine crack to rearrange whatever could have broken with the hit. “Not bad,” he had to suppress the desire to wolf-whistle.

James smirked. “Been practicin’”

His pretty face was still shinning with youth, not that he was old enough to have lost those qualities. It was just his sense of time was still recovering after the two-years trip with his mom. Keith wanted nothing more than to see that face sweating and gasping as he yielded.

He cracked his neck as he assumed position one more time, he had no intentions to start. He was eager … excited even. Had James been practicing? He wanted to see that. Moreover, he had no idea of what kind of style the Leader of the MFE mastered the best. Contrary to Keith, he must possess a disciplined martial art. And if that was the case, it’d only keep him standing for a while.

As he had wanted, James made the first move, charging forward, aiming for the ribs. (That was unexpected!) Keith defended once again, he used his arm and elbow to block and hit him in the shoulder, seizing his wrist and jerking his arm to his back.  
The Black Paladin never saw the leg of James coming right to his knees, and he stumbled. But the extra weight made him fall, with James on top of him.

“I’m sorry,” mumbled James, there was a big fat grin plastered on his face.

The bastard was enjoying it! There was the same glimmer in his eyes, it was annoying and gratifying at the same time. It gave Keith so many mixed signals.   
Confusing feelings was the last thing he wanted at the moment, he was still mad at the cadet. Not that he was going to confess that.

 

With a swift kick, he got rid of the other’s weight and stood. On the bright side of things, James Griffin could be taller, but he wasn’t that heavy. That newly acquired piece of information ran through his brain like lightning. Keith oversaw all his chances to take him down. Both young males were up and ready to charge again. Adrenaline was running fast in his system.

It was a feeling of freedom. He felt alive and able to take on everything. He was just as eager. In the cadet's eyes, Keith could anticipate the next move, a punch. (Redirection.) He hooked him into just behind the fist at the wrist and directed the attack aiming for overbalancing him through his own attack, and James met the floor a second time.

James stood once again, he wiped the blood coming out from the corner of his lip. The action had been quick, but for the paladin, it took an eternity. James was bleeding, and that conflicted him until he remembered their current situation. The expression on his face was severe, more than he has ever seen before. Keith backed a little to obtain impulse. A front kick would do the trick. He _hesitated_ for a few seconds, should he aim at the knee, or above? He had to remind himself that wasn’t a life or die situation, he couldn’t go for James’ ribs or temple.

He still had hesitated, that was his mistake.   
The moment James was in front of him, he ducked his entire body and knocked him to his knees. It didn’t really hurt, but Keith lost his balance. The next punch was aimed at his face; he defended.

 

The Leader of Voltron bit his lip, irked. Should he blame the stress of the few Decapheebs? What was going on at the moment, that little sparring session, he knew he wanted that. There was a lot of steam to get rid off. There were so many upsetting thoughts roaming his mind. And every single one of them had to do with cadet James Griffin, Leader of the MFE.

A strong kick sent James flying to the same wall he had collided before, he made sure it was 10 times harder. James gasped for the air that seemed had abandoned his lungs. Lying on the floor he rolled to face the ceiling. Keith was gradually approaching, he was in no hurry for he knew it was going to take time to recover from that one.

His Blue-gray eyes took the time to bare James' being. So many things changed, bags under his eyes he hadn't noticed before. His shoulders were broader, he could totally believe he's been training hard his body. Keith got close enough to appreciate the blush adorning prominent cheekbones. The pilot's olive skin didn't allow it to be strenuously notorious. That look, at a short distance, fitted him. A flustered James was not uncommon—at least the James of his memories used to get flustered and excited about everything. Although, Keith realized he had never paid attention to those little details before.

He noticed how James' nose was still slightly twitching while he mumbled nonsense. However, that recognition didn't affect the leader of Voltron's disposition to not allow him to stand. He placed both of his hands on his face. He found the other's ears and hit them. Not too hard, he didn’t want him in a Hospital for a month.

“You son of a—,” moaned him. Keith smiled in delight, somehow it felt personal. Not their current position, but the situation in general. The feeling was exhilarating, overcoming the adrenaline he felt at the beginning of it all. Keith never left his post on top of James, who apparently did the first thing that entered his mind. He gripped Keith by the waist using his legs and smashed their foreheads together.

Keith will bet money on the fact that that was not one of his most brilliant ideas. None of them wanted to lose; that was a fact. The Black Paladin has faced terrible opponents before, and he was not losing against one that was handsome, tall, and … he shook his head. That was not the time!

Something keen to pride settled unspeakably between them. Suddenly, they were rivals once again. There was no time for doubting or pleasantries. When they both were on their feet again, the whole ordeal turned aggressive. Keith was not so sure he would survive that kind of encounter, emotionally speaking. But he had to give his best and, at least, wipe the floor with James' ass once or twice. He’d love to finish him, though.

James and Keith matched when it came to brains,—and maybe the fighter pilot was stronger than him—but Keith has always been the most agile of them all, and he knew how to use that for his advantage.

They kicked, they punched. James grabbed him by his hair and threw him, almost smashing his face against the nearest wall. (And James wasn’t, in the slightest, surprised when he turned the tables and did the same to him.) 

At some point, clothes were too heavy and hot to carry. Not to mention they were dampened in sweat. Keith found time to get rid of what he could, so did James.  
In an instant, the two of them were nothing but wearing their Garrison pants and wet tank tops.

 

Sweat was falling from the olive skin of the cadet. There was something alluring about that, and he couldn’t shake that idea off his head. Sweat kept falling from his own face, Keith couldn’t distinguish which drop was his and which James’. This time around, he found himself back pressed against the floor with the cadet on top of him. None were moving, their eyes were locked, trying to read the next movement the other would attempt to do.

His chest felt heavy, not in a bad way. Even though, both males were panting neither of them wanted to yield. Or to let go of the grip on the other.

 

“Is this the moment when you start making out, and I say: ‘Not in front of my salad’?” They both turned startled as Pidge broke the moment—if there was one, to begin with. “Because I swear, you two have been in the same position, eye-fucking for about five dobashes now.”


End file.
